


The Only One Who Didn't Know

by tnlph



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Co-workers, F/M, Secret dating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 07:25:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5958757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tnlph/pseuds/tnlph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma and Killian squelch their office rivalry in favor of a "co-workers with benefits" relationship. It goes well, until one of them realizes it's more. (A very, very, very off interpretation of the secret dating trope.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only One Who Didn't Know

In a sleepy daze, Emma registered the very male body pressed to her back. As she took stock of her situation, she felt the arm draped over her side, and the wrist lazily caressing the underside of her breast.

The fact that it was a wrist, not a hand, was all she needed to know about just exactly who it was pressed up against her.

“Go back to sleep, Swan. I’ll ravish you again at a more human hour.” She felt scruff against her skin as a kiss was pressed into her shoulder.

Sleep was now going to be impossible as she started thinking over the events that led up to her sharing a bed with Killian Jones.

* * *

 

_The evening started innocently enough. Their company’s holiday party was being held at the swanky downtown hotel they had just finished renovating. As a treat to the employees, rooms had been rented out for everyone so they could truly enjoy the fruits of their labors. A lavish dinner. An open bar. A live band. Dancing. All a recipe for a good time, until she found herself waiting for an elevator with the bane of her existence, Killian Jones. No one knew how to get under her skin more than he did, and with a little bit of alcohol coursing through their veins, the tempers flared._

Come morning, she couldn’t remember what started the argument. But, as she lay in bed with his arms wrapped around her, every inch of her skin aware that there was absolutely nothing separating them, she remembered the two of them yelling at each other in the newly mirrored elevator bank. Panic rose. Had they been seen? There had been some fights in the office that had resulted in them being brought in before HR for lectures about “proper office behavior.” This surely would result in another visit to Mr. Hopper. And more paperwork.

At least she was sure no one saw what happened when they entered the elevator.

_The charged emotions that had resulted in the fight completely changed course the second the doors closed. A momentary detente and the next thing she knew he’d pressed her up against the stone clad wall, brass handrail digging into her back, his arms against the walls on either side of her, pinning her there. The heat she saw in his eyes before he crushed his lips against hers seared every nerve in her body. Her hands instinctively found his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his shirt and jacket. She grabbed his tie and pulled him closer, as impossible as it was._

_The signal dinged indicating the doors were about to open all too quickly for both their liking. Separating to opposite sides of the cab and both trying to settle their expressions, they prepared themselves for any new riders to join._

_Killian took the opportunity to press the button for his floor, shooting Emma an arched look._

_When the doors to the elevator opened, a puzzled couple outside asked, “Down?” Both shook their heads. “Up.” The doors closed, and they were in each other's arms again, lips on skin, hands roaming._

_This time when the indicator binged, Killian peeked out of the doors, checking to see if anyone was in the hallway. Seeing the coast was clear she took his elbow and he led her quickly down the hall, fumbling in his pocket for the key. She stood behind him, her heels evening their heights,  kissing the back of his neck and running her hands over his hips as he tried to open the door._

_As they stepped into the room, the chill of the air caused goosebumps to rise over Emma’s skin, and she shivered slightly. Killian ran his hand and wrist down her arms, appreciating the absolute smoothness of her skin. His head was tilted towards hers, eyes closed, breathing in her scent._

_She took this time to study his face. She’d always known he was gorgeous, but she’d never let herself appreciate it. She’d always let his cockiness get in the way. Right now all she could see was the scar on his cheek she’d never noticed, the perfect rose of his lips, and the way his long eyelashes were resting on his cheeks. Couple the perfection of his face with the way his body felt under her hands, and the recent discovery of their physical chemistry and Emma knew there was no way she was leaving this room tonight._

* * *

She rolled over to face him. She knew he was awake, just not opening his eyes.

“Swan, I told you, I’d ravish you again, just let a man sleep.”  
  
“Jones, we need to talk about this.”

He groaned in exasperation and rolled onto his back, flinging his arm over his eyes. “Of fucking course we do,” he muttered under his breath. “Okay, Swan. What exactly do you need to say.”

What he heard was not at all what he was expecting.

“So, last night was amazing.”

He raised his arm from his face, and his eyes flew open. He side-eyed her, not saying anything, waiting for her to continue.

“Look, I don’t date. You’re not seeing anyone. That was too good to be just a one time thing.”

“For once you and I absolutely agree.” He rolled to his side to face her, letting his wrist caress her side and settle on her hip. She quivered at his touch. She knew what he could do with that wrist. How good he could make her feel. “What exactly do you propose?”

Typically Emma Swan was not shy about letting her partners know what she wanted from them, but in those situations she would never have to see them again. This was different. This was Killian Jones. Their lives were tangled and intertwined. They worked together. Her best friend was married to his best friend. If this all went south, there was no way to walk away, not completely. But it couldn’t be any worse than it already was, so she took a chance.

“Well, Killian,” she made a point to use his name in lieu of Jones, “I think we’re both adult enough to acknowledge that we have physical needs. I take care of yours. You help me with mine.”

“Mmmm, I like the sound of that, Swan.” He pushed her back against the bed, and lowered himself on top her her, pressing kisses into neck, then chest, and down to her breasts. “I have needs, Swan. I have needs right now.” Emma said nothing as her breathing sped up, deciding they could easily hash out the details of their agreement later. Much, much later.

* * *

Emma got to work early on Monday morning, eager to listen in as the people around her rolled in and started talking about any holiday party gossip. Head ducked down in her cube, but with her ears alert, she was relieved that so far none of the conversations so far included the names “Killian Jones” or “Emma Swan.” She’d also yet to receive any emails from HR.

She didn’t notice as her best friend walked in and sat down, too intent on listening to a story about Leroy from the model shop getting drunk and taking over the band’s microphone. That was something she wanted to hear all about later, and perhaps see the video.

“Morning, Emma. David and I missed you at breakfast on Sunday. You said you were going to join us. What happened? You should see the the way the Hamilton Room turned out. It’s gorgeous in the morning.”  
  
“Mm, sorry about that. I was so beat and my phone died. I slept right through. Plus, those beds were so comfortable.” Emma knew this was going to be Mary Margaret’s first question, and had the lie prepared.

“Yeah, Killian said the same thing.”  
  
“Oh, he was coming too?”

“Yeah, since we’d already cancelled Sunday dinner. But he ended up meeting David for lunch later.”

Emma was relieved when Mary Margaret let all talk of the weekend drop, and let her get to work. Just because they’d had one project finish successfully didn’t mean there weren’t a stack of items waiting for her attention.

She had to roll her eyes when at 4PM a message popped up on on her computer through the intra-office message system.

_KJONES: Needs, Swan!_

She promptly deleted the message, and pulled out her phone to text a reply. She’d been caught up in more group texts with Jones, Mary Margaret, and David than she’d care to remember, but thanked her lucky stars she had his number now.

_ES: Killian, you know they read our messages._

_KJ: You’re paranoid. But what about it? I have needs._

_ES: Most definitely not at work. Never at work._

_KJ: I didn’t mean at work, Swan. After. Your place or mine?_

Emma paused. She hadn’t thought about that. They still hadn’t worked out the logistics. The only people she’d ever let into her apartment were Mary Margaret and David. Was she really going to let Killian Jones come over? Was she ready to see where he lived? Hotels would get expensive, fast. Biting the bullet, she decided that if they were really going to do this, it should be on home territory. Maybe it would give her the upper hand if she needed it.

_ES: Mine. 710 Bond Street. Apt. 22. I’ll be home after 6._

She was not expecting to get a winking emoticon as the response, but given what that man did with his eyebrows she shouldn’t have been surprised.

 

* * *

Killian Jones was frankly stunned by everything concerning Emma Swan in the past 24 hours. They’d met 6 years earlier when he’d moved to Boston from England, to work for the large architectural firm that recruited him from across the pond. That had been what set their adversarial relationship off right from the start. He’d found out she’d worked her ass, and what a wonderful ass it was, off to get the job, and from her point of view, he’d just waltzed in and was the owner’s golden boy.

She had no idea what he’d been through before that, and had never taken the opportunity to find out.

They fought over everything. Every new project was a battle to see who would be assigned. Every new pitch was a competition to see who could win the job for the firm. It was only the fact that both of them were damn good at their jobs that had kept them from being fired for the tension they caused in the office.

How Mary Margaret and David Nolan had managed to keep Sunday dinners going once Killian’s attendance was a regular thing was a complete mystery. Mary Margaret, being the person she was, instantly befriended him. Finding out he was not only new to the firm, but to Boston and to the country, she invited him over to Sunday dinner. When Emma arrived to find him there, not even her love of her best friend could keep her civil. But David and Killian had hit it off, and 6 years later the two were best friends.

Late Sunday morning, when Emma finally left Killian’s bed, he texted his friend.

 _KJ: Sorry I missed breakfast. Long story. Around for lunch?_  
  
DN: Sure. Granny’s?   
  
David arrived to see Killian sitting at a booth with his head in his hand.

“What’s up, mate?” David always attempted to imitate Killian’s accent. He always failed.

“I’ve a problem. And you can’t tell your wife. She would not approve. Not at all. I can’t tell you unless you can promise you can keep it from Mary Margaret.”

David looked at his friend. Keeping secrets was not something he and Mary Margaret did. But his friend truly looked in pain.

“Okay. I won’t tell her. What’s wrong.”

“I slept with Emma.”

David had just taken a sip of water, and nearly choked. That was the last thing he expected to hear. He couldn’t even figure out which question he wanted to ask first so instead he just waited for Killian to supply more information.

“We were fighting and then making out. And then we were back in my room and we slept together. And now, she wants us to continue sleeping together. Because as she puts it, ‘she doesn’t date and I’m not seeing anyone, so why don’t we just help each other out.’ Which is why you can’t tell Mary Margaret. She would never approve of sex without feelings.”

“What I’m gathering by your torment is that maybe there are feelings?”

“Of bloody course there are feelings. You know that woman, Dave? She’s infuriating. But she’s also amazing. I’ve never met anyone like her. Just, how could I say no? And how do I do this?”

“So, this is going to sound weird, but I think you secretly date her.”  
  
“I don’t follow.”   
  
“Well, don’t let it just be sex.” David felt uncomfortable just saying it. “When you guys meet up, bring dinner saying, ‘I’m sure we’ll work up quite the appetite.’ Then you eat together. I don’t know, plan things. Make it so that you’re spending time together. Eventually, she’ll realize it’s more than just sex.”

Killian sat quietly. David was absolutely brilliant.

“Mate, I’ve always wondered how you ended up with your wonderful wife. It all makes sense now. You tricked her,” he teased.

That earned Killian an eye roll.

“But seriously, Killian, take it slow. Let her get to know you. Get to know her. She’s got a tough exterior, but because she’s had to.” David was thoughtful. “Are you serious about this? About her?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t be here talking to you if I weren’t.”

An hour later, without betraying any of Emma’s secrets, David had truly done his friend a service. The two had come up with a solid plan for whittling away her defenses, allowing Killian to turn “just sex” into everything.

 

* * *

 

Emma was puzzled when she opened her door and saw Killian standing there with take out Chinese. Puzzled but actually quite pleased.  She hadn’t thought through the plan before she told him to come over, and realized there was every possibility that she wouldn’t be getting dinner. There certainly wasn’t anything in her refrigerator to offer him.

“What’s that?” she asked. As if she didn’t know. But she was just curious as to motive.

“Sustenance. You’ll need it for what I have in mind for you tonight,” he said, raising his eyebrow.

He sneaked in past her, and looked around her apartment, impressed. Open, clean lines, comfortable furniture. Few personal touches, a picture here and there, but that was Emma. She put very little of herself on the surface. He was willing to dig.

He put the bag down on the kitchen bar top and sat in a stool. “I’m fine with eating from the containers, and there are chopsticks here if you don’t want forks. I got a bit of everything, Swan.”

She eyed him, not comfortable with how at home he looked. He pulled out a paper bag, unveiling a bottle of wine as well. “We will need glasses though.” She put a corkscrew down on the counter in front of him, and he grimaced. “No need, love. I always make sure it’s a screw top.” He waved his wrist in front of her and she looked slightly ashamed. For all his faults she tended to forget his missing hand. That was one thing she never held against him.

The scent of broccoli and beef had finally made its way to her, and she could no longer resist. She joined him at the counter, taking the chopsticks out the the package and quickly dug in. He passed her a package of soy sauce, and she realized that he intended for her to open it. He didn’t ask, and she didn’t say anything. She just opened it and passed it back. She wondered how he did that on his own. Probably something less graceful involving his teeth.

They ate in companionable silence, which made Emma uneasy when she thought about it. It shouldn’t be this easy to have someone new in her home. She didn’t start to truly relax until they finished and had packaged the food up and stowed it in the refrigerator, and Killian cornered her against the counter. This, this was what was familiar. She could do this.

“So, Swan,” he paused to drop open kisses to her collarbone, “care to give me a tour?”

Emma turned, and took him by the hand, leading him straight to her bedroom. She turned on a light as they entered, and turned to face him, pressing the length of her body against him. “So, Killian, these needs of yours. Hopefully you intend to make sure my needs are met as well.”

“Swan, a gentleman always makes sure a lady’s needs are met first. And I am _always_ a gentleman.”

* * *

It was Emma who asked for their next meeting, shooting Killian a text on Thursday as she was heading to the train. She’d sat at home all night Tuesday and Wednesday with her phone in hand, drafting texts to Killian that were never sent. But by Thursday she couldn’t wait any longer.

_ES: If you wanted to come over tonight I wouldn’t say no._

_KJ: Oh, no. That’s not how this works, love. You have to tell me you want me to come over. Otherwise you can take care of yourself. Although, maybe I’d like to watch that._

_ES: …_

_ES: I’d like you to come over, Killian. I’ve taken care of myself for the past two nights, and maybe that’s just not doing it for me now._

He nearly dropped his phone when he read the message.

_ES: My vibrator just doesn’t measure up._

_KJ: Damnit, Swan. I’m still at my desk at work. If you’d like me to be able to stand up to leave, you need to stop._

_ES: haha. Just come over._

He arrived with Italian and another bottle of wine.

“You didn’t have to do that. I could have ordered for us.”  
  
“Nonsense. I want to make sure I leave you sated in every possible way.” He put his hand at her waist and pulled her close, dropping a kiss on her lips. She responded, and their dinner was forgotten in an instant. Backing her into the bedroom, he delighted in learning every single thing that made her moan, squirm, or sigh in pleasure, filing the information away for their next encounter. When she finally came undone, he was not too far behind.

 

* * *

 

Sunday mornings were Emma’s least favorite part of the week. An ennui usually settled in. She would think about everything she needed to get done before Sunday dinner, knowing that her weekend was about to be over. But all she would really want to do was lay around on the couch reading or binge watching TV. The past few Sundays she and Killian had spent holed up in one apartment or the other, pleasuring each other, eating, and watching TV. For the first time in forever, her Sundays were no longer a chore. But he wasn’t around this weekend, and although she wouldn’t admit it to herself, she missed him.

When her phone lit up with a text, she practically raced to reply.

_KJ: 2PM. The Clarke. I have tickets. You in?_

_ES: That’s impossible. It’s sold out for the next 3 months. Plus, you were busy._

_KJ: Got the tickets when they first went up. My friend Pete was supposed to be coming into town but he didn’t. Stop questioning, are you in?_

_ES: Are you sure you want to take me? People are dying to go._

_KJ: Dave’s busy. Not really anyone else to ask. And I said stop questioning. Are you in?_

The Clarke was the new contemporary art museum, and tickets were near impossible to come by. Emma had been dying to go, but had failed to get tickets despite her best efforts. As it was, she was on a wait list a mile long.

_ES: Um, yeah. Meet you there._

_KJ: No, I’ll swing by. We can get lunch on the way._

Emma suddenly found motivation to get up and get some things done, knowing she had plans for the day. But she found herself distracted as she cleaned and did laundry. Killian’s admission that he didn’t really have anyone else to ask had struck her. She realized that for as much as she’d come to know about Killian over the past month, there was still so much to find out.

He arrived at noon to get her, saying he knew just the place for lunch. She laughed when they arrived at Granny’s.

“Granny’s? You brought me to Granny’s?” The diner was the kind of place where everyone felt immediately at home. “Let me guess, you eat here with David?” He nodded. “You know this is my place, right? I worked here through college. I introduced Mary Margaret and David to it. We’re on my ground here, Jones.”

“Hey Emma. Hey Killian,” they heard the waitress call to them as they walked in. Ruby, Emma’s former co-worker, and current friend, as well as Killian’s regular waitress, was delivering a tray of food as they took a booth.  They saw her head whip around as she registered that they were walking in together. She practically dumped the tray of plates on a customer’s table in order to get over to them.

“What’s this?” she asked, pointing back and forth between the two of them. Emma was quick to try to cover. “We’re on our way to the Clarke. The architecture is supposedly amazing. We need to take some pictures for the office?”   
  
Ruby wasn’t buying it. “On the weekend? And they sent the two of you? If what I hear from David and Mary Margaret’s Sunday night dinner stories is true, that museum won’t be standing by the end of the day.”

“Very funny, lass. We’ve called a truce. I’d be more worried about Granny’s existing if you don’t get Swan her grilled cheese and onion rings ASAP.”   
  
He gave her his most devastating smile, but Ruby was even less fooled than before. “So, I’m supposed to buy that you’re on an assignment for work, but you just happen to know that Emma likes grilled cheese and onion rings.” His face fell. Emma’s head hit the table.

“Ruby, it’s really not what you think. But it’s not anything we want to explain. Mary Margaret would not understand and we really don’t want her to know. Please don’t say anything.”

This Ruby understood. Ruby knew Mary Margaret just enough to know her endless supply of hope and her relentless quest for everyone’s happy endings. Mary Margaret would see Killian and Emma together and hope for so much more. Emma and Ruby were cut from the same cloth. Sometimes someone was just convenient.

“Got it. Food will be right out.”

 

* * *

 

Emma was not surprised that she enjoyed Killian’s company at the museum. For all that they argued, she always knew he was intelligent and keenly observant. They spent hours evaluating, critiquing and laughing. Most of the exhibits were to be expected, nothing really new. If it weren’t for the company, Emma would have felt quite let down by the excursion.

However the last exhibit was something unexpected. Requiring special ticketing, it was a room that admitted two at a time through a dark tunnel blocking out all light. Killian entered the tunnel first, running his wrist along the railing, with his hand held out groping for Emma’s. Even in the dark she knew he was searching for her, and had reached to find him.

Making their way into the room, they found the bench they’d been told to expect and sat. And sat. The pure black of the room was supposed to cause each person to focus on the the images supplied by the mind. Instead, all Emma could focus on was the man sitting next to her holding her hand.

For all of the intimacy they shared, sweaty, tangled in the sheets of a bed, this was an entirely new experience. For fifteen minutes they sat in complete silence. Emma would have given everything to know what he was thinking. What surprised her was that as curious as she was to know what was going on in Killian’s mind, and how new this situation was for the two of them, she was absolutely comfortable. He should be making suggestive comments. She should be fighting with him. But instead, they were silent and contemplative. And comfortable. It wasn’t bad.

When she heard the attendant call time, signaling that they needed to leave to allow the next ticket holders to enter, she was glad that Killian still held her hand tightly within his as they made their way down the dark corridor. Neither spoke. Emma was unwilling to break the spell that seemed to come over them inside the room.

The connection was destroyed the second they stepped out of the room. Their boss was standing in line to enter, and they both, still without even saying a word, made a mad run for it. When they were two blocks away from the museum, and both sure they’d escaped without being seen, they collapsed on a bus stop bench laughing.

“Oh bloody hell. Thank god we got out without that wanker seeing us.”

“Yes, can you imagine if we’d had to explain this? He’d send us straight into Hopper to fill out all the employee dating paperwork. I don’t even want to think about the expression on his face if we tried to explain it was just sex.”

Emma had said this as she stood up and walked away. She couldn’t look at him just then. She felt like things had shifted slightly, and she needed to put them back in place. It was just sex. They both needed to remember that. Especially her.

“Right.” Killian was glad she wasn’t looking at him. He didn’t want her to see that his face had fallen at hearing her admit it was still just physical, crushing his hope that she’d felt something more.

 

* * *

 

Emma watched as Killian received a verbal lashing from their boss. He was seated in the glass conference room directly in front of her desk, and she couldn't help but observe. Something just seemed off. Killian wasn't one to just sit there and take Gold’s abuse, especially now when it was unjustified. Killian always pushed back. But today he sat, head bowed, not even nodding any acknowledgement.

When Gold finally released him Emma tried to catch his eye as Killian made his way past her desk, but he didn't look up. Everything about him screamed sadness and defeat. Wanting to do something, but not being the comforting type, she went with the only thing at her disposal.

_ES: Rough day? Want me to make things better?_

The reply came much, much later.

 _KJ: Swan, I’m just not up for it tonight. I’m afraid I’ll be horrible company. Rain check?_ _  
_ _ES: No. I’ll come over to yours. I already put in our dinner order. We can just watch something, and maybe if you do end up in the mood I can take care of you?_

Killian smiled sadly at his desk. She would take care of him. He liked the sound of that. Even if she didn’t mean it the way he wanted. At least there was one good thing about today.

_KJ: Fine, but don’t blame me if you’re unsatisfied._

 

* * *

 

She started to set out their dinner on his kitchen table, but he insisted on eating in front of the TV.  
  
“Swan, this is literally the worst night. Can we just sit in front of the TV and not talk?”

“Sure.” She carried their plates over and joined him in front of the TV. Jeopardy was on. Usually when they watched it both were competitive about answering before the other. Tonight, he didn’t even try. She followed his lead and stayed silent, just eating and sipping her drink. When he finished eating and Jeopardy was over, he slouched down in the cushions and handed Emma the remote.

“I don’t care what you watch.”

She’d never seen him this despondent. She didn’t want to pry though.

Flipping to his DVR menu, she came across hours and hours of a Discovery TV show that she also loved. Starting the completely mindless TV she scooted close and put her arm around him.

He put his head on her shoulder and a moment later she felt him relax. “This is good,” he said.

They were silent for the first episode. As Emma queued up the next Killian finally spoke. “I always think my brother would have liked this show.”

“You have a brother?”  
  
“Had a brother. He died 7 years ago today in an accident.”

She pulled him a little bit closer and reached out to hold his hand in hers. Staying silent, she knew he’d share more if he wanted. This was no time to ask questions.

“It was the same accident that took my hand. I would have given both of them if I could have saved him.” Tears were falling down his cheeks. “I would have given my own life.” He started sobbing.

She pulled him into a full hug, rubbing his back and stroking his hair. She couldn’t say it was okay. She couldn’t say anything to comfort him. She didn’t know how. Emma wasn’t wired for comforting words. But she could hold him. And she did. She held him until his tears stopped, and his breathing settled.

When he’d cried his fill, he pulled away and grimaced. “Sorry you had to see that, love. I’m afraid I’m not very good company tonight.”

She made sure to take his hand again. “Don’t be sorry. I know you might not understand this right now, but I’m actually jealous. I don’t have any family. I never have, so to even have had a brother would be everything to me. I can’t begin to imagine how terrible it would be to have lost him.” They sat silently, eyes focused on the TV but neither were really paying attention.

“You should tell me about him.”

He smiled. It had been so long since he had talked about Liam to anyone.

“He was more than just a brother to me. He was everything. My father abandoned us when I was little, and my mother died when I was 8. Liam was 10 years older, and he was able to manage it so that he got custody. He gave up everything to raise me, getting a job and working to earn enough to support us both. He was my best friend, my brother, and my parent. And I couldn’t have asked for better. He was the best man I’ve ever known.”

“He must have loved you very much to have taken care of you like that. You were lucky.”

He closed his eyes and let a few final tears fall. He needed to hear that his brother loved him.

“Thank you.”  
  
“For what?”   
  
“For coming over tonight. It’s not exactly part of our deal to listen to me cry over my dead brother.”

She held him closer and placed a kiss on his temple as her only response.

They turned back to the TV, distracted for a little while.

“Swan, what do you mean you don’t have any family?”

She sighed. She knew it would come up eventually once she’d made her confession. “My parents, well, my mother at least, abandoned me as a newborn. I was placed into the foster system, but never adopted. Just shuffled from house to house. Some of the foster families were great, but just, none of them were home. None of them were a mom and dad. Mary Margaret and David are the closest thing I have to a family.”

“I didn’t know.”   
  
“I know. Mary Margaret and David are the only ones who do. But I’ve basically threatened them with death if they ever tell anyone.”

He smiled. “Well, upon my life your secret is safe with me as well.”   
  
“I know.”   
  
He was touched that she told him, and that she admitted she felt safe telling him. He felt better tonight about Liam’s death than he ever had. Maybe it was that it was another year had passed and that he’d had another year to heal. But he knew it had more to do with the woman sitting next to him and supporting him.

When he started to yawn, a little earlier than usual, the day’s events having really taken their toll, she got up and said she’d get out of his way.

“Stay. Would you stay, Emma? Please.”   
  
What surprised her is that it didn’t scare her to stay.  

She crawled into bed next to him, and let him hold her in his arms and fell asleep.

* * *

 

“Hey, Mate.”

“She stayed last night.” He didn’t even acknowledge his friend’s greeting as he sat down to the table for lunch. “She stayed. No sex.”

“This is good. How did it go this morning?”

“She got out pretty quickly. She had to go home to get ready for work. But it wasn’t awkward.”  As soon as they placed their orders Killian recounted the events of the evening.

“Killian, you knowing about her childhood is a big deal. She’s not kidding when she says Mary Margaret and I are the only ones who know. I think we knew her for a year before she finally told us about that. Emma opening herself up to trust you, that’s not small.”

“I know. Which makes me feel terrible about this whole thing. I feel like I’ve tricked her into getting to know me. It’s not exactly going to inspire her to continue to trust me.”  
  
David thought. “Killian, I think if you were doing it for an ulterior motive, you’d be right. But you’re doing it because you actually have feelings for her. You actually care about her. This may be the only way you ever could have gotten through her guards enough for the two of you to get to know each other.”   
  
“I just hope you’re right.”  
  


* * *

  
Emma arrived earlier to Sunday dinner than Killian, as he had some work that had taken up his Sunday. Arriving at their apartment she chatted with David and Mary Margaret in the kitchen as they jointly put the finishing touches on dinner.

“Mary Margaret, did I tell you about Amy, the new detective at work?”  
  
“No, who’s that?”

“I thought I did. I was thinking I’d invite her to Sunday dinner next week. She just moved here and she doesn’t know anyone. Maybe you and Emma can be friendly? Like I said, she doesn’t know anyone.”  
  
“Of course we can.” The Nolan household was always open to strays.

“And I’m thinking she and Killian might really hit it off.”  
  
Emma had just walked out of the room to set wine glasses on the table and nearly stopped in her tracks. She wasn’t expecting that. And she certainly was not expecting what the idea of Killian dating someone else would do to her. Heart sinking in her chest, lungs collapsing. She was grateful that David had said that when she was not in the same room. She would not have been able to hide her reaction. As it was, she needed a few minutes before she could re-enter the kitchen.

“Emma, are you alright?”

Emma turned to her friend, trying to smile as though nothing was wrong. Everything was wrong.

“Oh, I’m fine. Just feel a little hot. Maybe it’s the heat of the oven. I’ll be fine when we sit down for dinner.”

She wasn’t fine when they sat down for dinner. All she could think about was how her life would change when Killian was done with her. He would eventually be ready for a girlfriend. Just sex wouldn’t work for him forever, and he’d want to find someone who could give him more. She would become the fifth wheel at Sunday dinners, until it became uncomfortable and it would become a “couples event.” She would see Mary Margaret at work, and David whenever they had a party.

Her mind had quickly spun a future in which everyone was happy but her. That’s what life always dealt her. She needed to start getting used to it now.

When dessert was over, she nearly ran out the door, not waiting for Killian down the block as had become their routine.

“Swan, wait up,” she heard him call, footsteps pounding the pavement behind her.

She slowed, knowing there was no way out of it.

“What’s gotten into you tonight?”  
  
“Nothing, just tired. I’ve got a lot to do at work and I need to get home and get to bed.”   
  
“So, you don’t need me to join you? I could maybe take your mind off things.” He bumped her shoulder with his and gave her a pointed look.

She tried to behave normally, as if she weren’t deep in thought. “No, Killian. Not tonight. I just need to get home.”

By the time she’d gotten home and into bed, she’d fully convinced herself it was time to end things with Killian. She needed to end it before she got hurt. She was lying to herself. The thought of it was already almost more than she could bear.  
  


* * *

  
Each day that passed Emma found some new way of avoiding Killian Jones.

**Monday**

_KJ: Your place or mine tonight, Swan?  
_ _  
_ _ES: Not tonight, Jones. So much to do, and I have to be back here early. You’re on your own._

_KJ: That’s not nearly as much fun._

She didn’t reply.

**Tuesday**

_KJ: So, tonight?  
_ _  
_ _ES: I have plans with Ruby. I haven’t seen her in forever and I promised her we’d catch up._

He knew she was lying. He grabbed dinner at Granny’s that night, and Ruby happened to be his waitress.

**Wednesday**

_KJ: Come on, Swan. Don’t make me tell you I have needs._

_ES: Tomorrow?_

**Thursday**

_KJ: So, what’s the plan for tonight?_   
  
He received no reply.

Friday she called in sick.  
  


* * *

   
 _ES: I don’t feel well. I need to bail on dinner tonight. I’m so sorry. Have a good time. :-)_

The closer they got to Sunday the more she realized she could not be there to watch Killian meet Amy. It was best they have Sunday dinner without her. It would be as it should be.  
  
_MM: Oh no. Do you need anything? We can send it over._

_ES: No, no. I’ll be fine. I think I just need sleep. See you tomorrow._

_MM: Well, let us know. Feel better. <3 _

Sighing with relief, grateful that her friend didn’t push it further, Emma sat on the couch in her most comforting sweats, greasy four day old bun, waiting for a pizza. At least if she were going to wallow in self pity she’d be comfortable and fed. Queuing up her favorite movie she settled in for a long night in front of the TV.  
  


* * *

   
 _DN: Don’t come here. Emma’s “sick.” Go there._

_KJ: She hasn’t spoken to me all week, mate. Not exactly sure what going over there is supposed to do._

_DN: Do you want this or not?  
_ _  
_ _KJ: God damnit, yes._

_DN: Then go fight for it, mate._

Killian looked at his phone. That’s what his brother would have told him. If you want something, you need to fight for it. Whatever was going on, he had let Emma have her space. She didn’t get to end this without giving him an explanation.

He knocked on her door and heard ‘be right there’ called through. It sounded like she was expecting someone, and he had a moment of panic as scenarios of her having moved on flashed in his head.

When he saw her, in her grungy sweats and greasy haired glory, he laughed off the possibility. When he looked down and noticed she was about to hand him a fistfull of cash, he laughed outright.

“Swan, I’m not sure you owe me for any services rendered, but I’m sure we can work something out.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“What are you doing here?”   
  
“Mary Margaret and David said you were sick, so I thought I’d bring you a care package. Soup, Gatorade, crackers. You know, sick people stuff. I know you don’t have anything in your cupboards. But based on the fact that you were..” He turned to see a pizza delivery person walking down the corridor, and stop right next to him. Without commentary, Emma exchanged the cash for the pizza, and he followed Emma into the apartment.

“I was going to say waiting on supplies, that you could take care of yourself. I am now going to admonish you. Pizza is not good for you when you’re ill.”

“Thank you, Killian. As you can see, I’ve got food. I can take care of myself. Now you can still make Sunday dinner and report that I’m not going to die.”  
  
“And let you eat all of that pizza all by yourself? Never.” He grabbed plates out of her cabinet and carried the box over to the couch. “Swan, you can grab drinks for us. Unless you drank all my beer there should still be some in there, please?” He made himself at home on her couch, not waiting on her to restart the movie. He could tell from the paused screen what it was, and knew she’d seen it a million times.

Emma stayed in the kitchen, looking over at him as he propped his feet up on her coffee table.

“Aren’t Mary Margaret and David going to miss you?”  
  
“I think they can do without us for one dinner, Emma. They eat together six nights a week. They can handle seven.”   
  
“No, I mean, they were inviting one of David’s new co-workers over so that you could meet her. They thought the two of you would hit it off.”

Killian was simultaneously furious and elated. Furious, because he knew there was no woman over at the Nolan’s waiting to meet him. Dave would have fabricated the whole thing to make Emma jealous. He was elated because it worked. This isn’t how he would have wanted any of this to happen, but this was his chance.

He put his plate down and walked over to her in the kitchen.

“Emma, is that why you’ve been avoiding me all week? Because Dave wanted me to meet another woman?”

“It’s not just that, Killian. It’s just, I realized that, well this is more than just sex. We’re friends now. We spend all our time together. We have for months. If you do start to date, this is going to have to end. And I need to get used to the idea that you’re not always going to be around.”

He was standing in front of her, close, but not close enough to touch her. He looked at her, not allowing her to break eye contact.

“Start to date, love?”

“Yes. You’ll meet someone eventually.”

“Emma, I’ve already met someone.”  
  
She didn’t respond.

“She was a little infuriating to start out with, but break through that tough shell and there’s no one, _no one_ , I’d rather spend time with. No matter what we’re doing.”

Emma could swear her heart had stopped.

Killian still hadn’t touched her. He wanted to wait until she reached out to him. He wanted to know she wanted this.

“But Killian, I don’t date.”  
  
At this he threw his head back and laughed. “Love, I’m not sure what you’d call the last few months, but I’m pretty sure you do date. We kind of skipped the first part of the story where I would have taken you out for fancy dinners and romantic evenings, and we’ve settled right into the couple who’s been together for years kind of dating, but you, Emma Swan, have been dating me for months.”

She opened her mouth to protest and immediately closed it. She realized, that despite her gut instinct to argue, she had no counter. He was right.

She scooted a step closer. But that wasn’t enough. So she moved another step closer. And another. She reached out with both her hands, lacing her fingers through his and taking his forearm in the other.

“When?”  
  
“When what, love?”   
  
“When did we start dating?”

He pulled her in, closing any remaining distance between them, and wrapped his arm around her waist. “I’d like to say the day after the Holiday Party. Dave would say the first night we didn’t threaten to kill each other at Sunday dinner.”

“David knows?”  
  
“Yes. Since the beginning. He’s been quite the champion of our relationship.”

“But then why would he have been trying to set you up with his co-worker?”

“I think it was his attempt to speed things up. I’m not sure but I think he thought a little jealousy might be what was needed to push you in the right direction. Despite the results, I’m not happy with his methods.”  
  
Emma scowled. “We can never let him know it worked.” She most definitely did not like the idea that one of her closest friends had played with her emotions. “Wait, does Mary Margaret know?” 

“Yes, I think the only one who didn’t know we were dating, love, was you.” She laughed. “David was supposed to keep it to himself, but those two have no secrets. It’s a little sickening really.”

She felt his arm tighten at her waist.

“Emma,” he said, with a smile.

“Killian,” she said, returning the smile. She felt lighter than she had all week.

“You like me,” he teased her. She turned red. “You used to hate me.”

“Hate’s a strong word, Jones.”

“You used to _HATE_ me.”

“Did you ever hate me?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer.

“Never. Not for one second. Not even at your loudest, most irrational, most infuriating point.”

Instead of replying, Emma rose up to kiss him. As it grew more passionate, she steered them towards the bedroom and for the first time this would not be just sex. For the first time, Emma Swan and Killian Jones had every intention of making love.

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first time I had ever worked from a prompt, and it did not go as planned. I do think I ended up with a decent story though!


End file.
